Fight Time

Violence often is the easiest answer for those in confrontational situations and generally the most attractive option for those watching. Whether prompted by anger, honor, fear, revenge, pride, ideology, or, ironically, love, striking others (or oneself) with fists, blade, poison, or other weapons offers immediate satisfaction. That, however, blinds the perpetrators and enablers to longer-term consequences that incur a level of pain and difficulty far outweighing the initial gratification. Lacking the ability to fully know those consequences before striking the blow, we are left with parables to give us a glimpse. William Shakespeare gives us such a parable with Romeo and Juliet, and Raphael Massie, with his brashly hip production for the Elm Shakespeare Company in New Haven, Connecticut, expands the play's effectiveness from that mere glimpse to a visceral understanding of violence's full effects.To continue, click here.

A Dream Dream Celebrates a Waking Dream

I had nothing with which to dab the tears from my eyes. They streamed down my cheeks to my beard. Crying at plays is something I do on occasion: especially William Shakespeare's King Lear. But here I'm watching Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, we're only in Act III, Scene 1, and I'm bawling from the accumulative effects of laughing since even before the play's first line was spoken. With inventive readings of Shakespeare's lines and metatheater elements, this dream of a Dream celebrates the opening of Cincinnati Shakespeare Company's new Otto M. Budig Theater. It is a fabulous new house, too, and as we settled into our seats before the show, I was prepared to focus my rave review on the company's new digs. Then, the company itself launches into rave-up hilarity in A Midsummer Night's Dream that shows off all that their new play space has to offer. For the complete review, click here.

The Palpable Presence of the Missing Third

Ariel flits from tree to tree—real trees. You hear dogs barking and feel the breeze blowing, both on cue. And when Prospero says that "The time 'twixt six and now must by us both be spent most preciously," in that moment in this environment you are sharing something more than William Shakespeare's words with his original audience; you are sharing in their time. These are among the delights of seeing The Tempest in Shakespeare & Company's new Roman Garden Theatre. Nevertheless, the production's most enticing aspect is how Prospero and his daughter, Miranda, literally gnash at each other like wolves in one moment and in the next embrace as if their lives depended on their love. An outdoor theater-in-the-rectangle can infuse this play about magic with real magic, but inevitably, insightful readings by veteran Shakespearean actors following the lead of an intelligent director are what keep Shakespeare's scripts ever-current, ever-evolving, always interesting.For the complete review, click here.

Theater Director Peter Hall, who died yesterday at the age of 86, had tremendous influence on the worlds of theater and opera, and on Shakespeare theater in particular. Through his productions at the National Theatre in London, he became and remains a key influencer in my own Shakespereances.For my tribute to Peter Hall, click here.

Bootleg Shakespeare's Timely Undertow

In its annual exercise of theatrical derring-do—mounting a full-scale William Shakespeare play in one day for a one-night-only performance in the Folger Theatre—Taffety Punk amps up the challenge of its Bootleg Shakespeare productions by selecting the playwright's more obscure works. Last year it was Henry VI, Part 1, which means that Henry VI, Part 2, lined up for this year's 11th Annual Bootleg Shakespeare. Oh, but what a difference a year has made for the nation. Suddenly, a singular feature of Henry VI, Part 2, the Jack Cade Rebellion, reverberates with shuddering relevancy, potentially lifting this play out of its relative obscurity. Not that Taffety Punk was concerned with such conceptual context. Bootleg Shakespeare is all about survival,and for my full review of a production with a promising afterlife, click here.

It's Mendelssohn, Not Meddlesome

It is one of the most popular pieces of music in history. Not played as often as "Happy Birthday to You" and the "Star-Spangled Banner," perhaps, but certainly more ubiquitous than Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, "Hey Jude," and the theme to Gilligan's Island. It is Felix Mendelssohn's Wedding March, and he wrote it in 1842 to accompany William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. This triumphal piece of orchestral music became what is now the ubiquitous soundtrack for blushing brides and grinning grooms tripping down the aisles through a phalanx of cheers and tears at the end of weddings. How much fun, then, to see it used for its original purpose, as Theseus, the Duke of Athens, and his bride, Hippolyta, along with two other newlywed couples, all dressed in formal Greek and Amazonian regalia, march onto the stage—attended by fairies. Such moments are the richest gifts (along with a few more ordinary presents) of Shakespeare Opera Theatre’s production of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night’s Dream featuring the full suite of Mendelssohn’s incidental music. For the complete review, click here.

The Common Roar

It starts with a roar—actually, it starts with a yawn, but such is a father's yawn, a sudden bellowing (as are a father's sneezes, coughing fits, and farts) to fright the pride (but not their own pride). It ends with a dead king and a nation emerging from chaos—actually, it ends with a theatrical conundrum: the bastardizing of the Bastard. The whole is a journey through two plays, William Shakespeare's King John and James Goldman's The Lion in Winter, in which the sequel comes first, the present play is past, the past play present, and a young theater company, 4615, shows its muscle while still learning the walk. To continue reading, click here.

The Boys Are Back In Town

Hoosier Shakes's mission statement is "To vitalize the performance of Shakespeare and other drama for diverse communities of Grand and Wabash Counties, Indiana, by presenting inspiring, accessible, literate, experiential theatrical performance." Note, first, the local focus, and then key words like accessible, literate, and experiential, three words some would consider antitheses. Which brings us to the company's Much Ado About Nothing directed by Marshall B. Garrett. Its opening signifies a production paying close attention to the play's text as well as its tone while emphasizing unabashed fun. How unabashed that fun is results in a mixed-bag production. For the complete review, click here.

For Whom the Bell Tolls

What has become a cliché, that “all the world’s a stage,” was, for the man who gave us that phrase, an operational dictum. William Shakespeare originally wrote for outdoor and transient theater. Moreover, he seems to have written for environmental contingencies. I've seen many examples of this, the latest with this summer's Cleveland Shakespeare Festival production of Macbeth on a tour stop in Public Square in the heart of downtown. The show's director, Cleveland Shakespeare Festival Artistic Director Tyson Douglas Rand, impressively uses touring staging restrictions to create, rather than limit, stage effects. But the keenest effect comes from, shall we say, a spiritual force.For the complete review, click here.

Past and Present Tense

Last year when Michigan Shakespeare Festival (MSF) Producing Artistic Director Janice L. Blixt planned for the company's 2017 season, she anticipated that The Taming of the Shrew would be the title that would stir the pot of controversy, not Julius Caesar. Then the Public Theater in New York this summer represented Donald Trump as Caesar, and like many other Shakespeare theaters around the country, MSF received online hectoring about its upcoming production. Although Blixt gives her version a modern setting—using some clever staging optics in doing so—she does not invoke current partisanship politics or party iconography with the play. However it's set, Julius Caesar's relevance emerges via Shakespeare's dramatic methodology in creating the environment of oppression that comes with encroaching tyranny and the palpable sense of internal and social chaos that comes in the wake of a coup. In her production, however, Blixt's cuts to the text and streamlining the play's personnel skim off the psychological cream of Shakespeare's political thriller. For the complete review, click here.

On the Matter of Political Correctness

Peering out from under my comforter of Bardolatry, I'm about to venture into Shakespearean blasphemy. I intend to—deep breath—endorse a "politically correct" change in William Shakespeare's verse that the Michigan Shakespeare Festival (MSF) made in its production of The Taming of the Shrew. Every age has its own version of political correctness, and Shakespeare, in comparison to the literature and sermons of his day, was at the forefront of his age's social correctness—yet, he could not realistically imagine the social correctness of our age. If he could, he very well might have tweaked a key piece of Shrew's language the way the Michigan Shakespeare Festival production has. It is only one word, but for me, it goes to the heart of this play's true meaning. So, gripping the comforter, I take another deep breath, and… For the complete review, click here.

What Love's Got to Do with It

In As You Like It, William Shakespeare offers no stage direction for Celia and Rosalind when, in the Forest of Arden where Rosalind is disguised as the boy Ganymede, Orlando appears, walking and talking with Jaques. Orlando is Rosalind's crush. She tells Celia, “Slink by and note him,” and per stage tradition the two women slip off to the back or side of the stage, though I’ve never seen them actually “slink.” Nor do I often see Rosalind do much “noting.” Tess Burgler in the Ohio Shakespeare Festival’s production, however, does a lot of noting. Her eyes glisten with lust as she looks again upon this male specimen she’s met only once, and her infatuation grows as he talks about his love for her. “What stature is she of?” Jaques asks. Replies Orlando, “Just as high as my heart,” and behind him Burgler’s Rosalind falls over and looks at Celia (Sarah Coon) with a gesture of, “OMG, is he not perfect?” Perfect, indeed. And in tone and fundamental focus as a romantic comedy, so is this production of As You Like It, helmed by Ohio Shakespeare Festival Co-Artistic Director Terry Burgler.For the complete review, click here.

From Foreplay to a Happy Climax

The foreplay is not to be dismissed. What might seem an inconsequential novelty is instructive in the play to come in this Theatre for a New Audience production of William Shakespeare's Measure for Measure. We are invited to enter the Polonsky Shakespeare Center's Samuel H. Scripps Mainstage through the backstage door. Pompey directs us down a series of hallways with brothel rooms, sex toys, phallic décor, and S&M weaponry before we finally emerge onto the back of the stage. We have just passed through Mistress Overdone's house in a modern-day rendering of Shakespeare's Vienna by wunderkind British director Simon Godwin. This physical passage sets a psychological state—puerile titillation, libidinous mystery, and a pervading sense of danger—for the stage production to come. Beyond suggesting that Vienna is a brothel, Godwin uses our frame of mind to map out a thematic path for Shakespeare's play, in which the Duke seeks his own redemption, women overcome misogynistic institutions to achieve empowerment, and danger is not defined by place or position, but person. Oh, and it's a comedy, too.For the complete review, click here.

Passion Play

It's been five years since I launched Shakespeareances.com, and in that first year I posted a commentary on this date titled "Forever Is Too Long for True Love" marking the 20th anniversary of my wedding to Sarah. You do the math. Today being the landmark day it is, and Sarah being what she is in so many ways, I feel the urge to engage in a bit of celebratory self-indulgence here, right before we slip off to a celebratory romantic tryst. My 20th anniversary commentary discussed the Shakespearean philosophical underpinning of our relationship, so I figured this time I'd answer the question we often hear from people who learn of my Shakespearean passion: "So, Sarah, did you get into Shakespeare because of him?" The short answer is, kind of. The full answer is this commentary. And just as my 20th wedding anniversary commentary served as a foundational guide to romantic longevity, this one serves as a practical primer for a happy marriage.To continue, click here.

The Magnitude of the Mundane

An empty wine bottle on our kitchen counter reminded me of last night's dinner, and now I was eating delicious left-overs for lunch. I had just posted my Timon of Athens review on Shakespeareances.com. My wife looked good when I dropped her off at work this morning, and we're excited about our upcoming romantic getaways. Life is great and I'm feeling good. Then it was back to my desk to write a review about William Shakespeare's King Lear. Perfect context, right? Sure, it's my favorite Shakespeare play, and WSC Avant Bard presents a generally fine version of it. But it is, nevertheless, King Lear, not the kind of play one should be dwelling on when life is great. Except, that is one of the points of the play that emerges in this production.For the complete review, click here.

Well, Not Really

This Robert Richmond–helmed production of Timon of Athens at the Folger Shakespeare Library’s theater is not really William Shakespeare’s Timon of Athens. Rather, it is what Richmond thinks Timon represents. Therefore, a review of this production shouldn’t legitimately proceed in a Shakespearean context when a broader theatrical context—as in, “Is it any good?”—probably is the most proper way to assess it (and the short answer to that contextual question is, “meh”). Ah, but this production, labeled on the playbill as “Timon of Athens by William Shakespeare,” was playing at a Shakespeare-aligned theater with several established Shakespeareans in the cast. Oh, and I'm writing this for Shakespeareances.com, too. So, having established that the words but not necessarily the plot of this play are, perhaps, by Shakespeare, we’ll proceed in a Shakespearean context, which requires a more convoluted answer to the question, "Is it any good?" To continue, click here.Reader response added June 26, 2017.

A Schooling in Truth

It's hard for me to adequately describe the whole body-and- mind experience of watching a David Ives play cast and directed by Michael Kahn, artistic director of the Shakespeare Theatre Company (STC), which now has staged four such collaborative adaptations of French classic fare. The first, Pierre Corneille's The Liar in 2010, is still among the top five of my all-time favorite non-Shakespeare theater experiences. After Ives' and Kahn's similar efforts with Jean-Francois Regnard's The Heir Apparent in 2011 and Alexis Piron's The Metromaniacs in 2015, now comes this current production of The School for Lies, Ives' retooling of his own adaptation of Molière's Le Misanthrope. In terms of this particularly Ivesian idiom, The School for Lies continues a downward trend in quality, but to say each subsequent Ives-adapted/Kahn-directed product doesn't quite reach the heights of The Liar is to note that the Himalayan peaks of Kangchenjunga, Lhotse, and Makalu are a few hundred meters short of Everest. While not reaching the highest summit, like its Ives predecessors at STC's Lansburgh Theatre, The School for Lies attains breathless heights of comic theater. For the complete review, click here.

Racial Casting and Theatrical Sacrilege

My son Jonathan kicks off a conversation prompted by the Edward Albee Estate denying a license for a production of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? that intended to cast a black actor as Nick. Our discussion goes beyond the topic of racism in theater to the matter of why the scripts of playwrights such as Albee are given more reverence than, say, Shakespeare's.To read this discussion, click here.

We Laugh and Laugh—And Others Cry

This qualifies as one of the stupidest productions of William Shakespeare's Macbeth I've ever seen. It also just might be the most brilliant. Between the comic antics of the Macbeths and director Liesl Tommy's visual translation of Shakespeare's script to a modern African nation, even the least-dogmatic Shakespeareans might cringe. Meanwhile, the laughter in the audience grows with every contra-anachronistic gimmick. The more the audience roars, the more I sour until, suddenly, I realize how firm Tommy's version of Macbeth has gripped my psyche. This is two parallel plays in one production: while the Shakespeare drama I know so well works on my intellect, in my heart I'm experiencing a more urgent, more frightening drama unfolding right there in the middle of the Shakespeare Theatre Company's Sidney Harman Hall in downtown Washington, D.C. For the complete review, click here.